


sit so pretty

by atimi (bertee)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Humiliation, M/M, Object Insertion, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-02
Updated: 2009-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/atimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winnemucca was fucking far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sit so pretty

Winnemucca was fucking far.

Sam had done long drives before - after all, he'd practically been raised in the Impala's backseat - but there was something about the boring trip through places where the local highlight was a giant statue of something useless that made this journey seem even more interminable than usual.

They'd traded off with sleep shifts, stopped for snacks and energy drinks when time allowed, bickered over radio stations and cassette tapes, and had a full-on argument after Sam had eaten the three-bean burrito for breakfast. Sam had fucked Dean in a truck-stop bathroom two hundred miles back, sucked him off before a bathroom break seventy miles after that, and had been itching to get his hands on his brother again ever since.

When Dean belched contentedly and started to rewind the Metallica tape for the third time, Sam decided it was time to start scratching that itch.

"Pull over."

Dean glanced over at him from the driver's seat. "You gotta go, Sammy?"

Sam smirked at him. "Something like that. You're going to want to park somewhere private."

Dean raised his eyebrows but obeyed without any verbal questions, pulling the Impala off the highway and letting it roll off-road until it came to a stop, cloaked from the afternoon sunshine in the shadow of some trees. Sam was out of the car as soon as it stopped and retrieved his items of choice from the trunk while Dean disembarked slowly, stretching and ambling back towards Sam with a lazy smile. "What's up, man? What we stopping for?"

"It won't take long," he promised, sliding the objects in the pocket of his jacket. "I'll take the next driving shift and you can entertain me on the way."

"Entertain you? M'not a performing monkey, dude." He grinned. "Plus you've already had your quota of on-road blow-jobs."

"Good thing it's not a blow-job I'm interested in," Sam snarked. "I want you to turn around, pull down your pants, and bend over the car."

Dean opened his mouth in what might have been a protest but it disappeared under Sam's steady gaze. He followed his instructions and Sam watched in enjoyment as he shucked his jeans down to mid-thigh - his underwear had been removed during the fuck in the bathroom - and bent over the Impala, ass raised to Sam's eyes and hands.

"Spread your cheeks, Dean."

There was a grumble from his brother but no real objection as he cupped his own ass and pulled his cheeks apart to expose his hole to Sam's eager gaze. He pressed an experimental finger in, feeling Dean still slick with lube and come, still clean from the enema he'd held for a twenty minute drive early that morning, and still open from the plug Sam had used to keep him open all through lunch.

Sam snagged the first item from his pocket and with the order of, "Stay spread", started to ease the end strip through Dean's clenching hole.

"Dude," Dean complained beneath him, "if that's a fruit roll-up, we're havin' words."

Sam chuckled and dropped the next two items onto the Impala's hood by Dean's face. "Don't worry. You're used to these, just maybe not in here."

He paused long enough to see Dean's eyes widen at the two generously sized ball gags which rested in front of him. "You're shitting me."

"Nope." Nudging the strap of the gag in further, Sam let the round pink ball of the first gag push against Dean's hole as he said, "Relax, Dean. It'll be easier if you don't tense up."

"Not tense up?" Dean laughed shortly. "You're shoving a fuckin' gag up my ass, Sammy."

"Three gags," Sam corrected. "You can take me, you can take these."

"Yeah but-"

He was cut off with a cry when Sam took advantage of his distraction to push the ball inside him. The buckle end dangled down against his balls and Dean groaned when Sam reached for the others, one hand pinning him down while he filled his ass with the awkwardly sized balls and straps of the well-used gags.

Dean was half-hard by the time he was finished, his hole pink and twitching as it tried to clench around the three black straps which were certain to make the drive even more uncomfortable. He whimpered when Sam tugged on one, making the balls shift inside him, but groaned aloud when his brother slapped his bare ass. "Pull your pants up. We need to get moving."

"Yes, Sir."

Sam forgave his sarcasm while he drank in the sight of Dean limping around to the passenger door of the Impala and eased himself to a seat.

If Sam drove a little faster than necessary over the ground to get them back on the road, well, that was just an unfortunate accident.

Thirty miles later, he turned the music off because Dean couldn't stop playing with the controls. Sam wanted to eliminate unnecessary distractions.

Fifty miles later, he bound Dean's wrists together with rope and told him not to slip the knots. It was dangerous for him to keep trying to lift himself up from the seat.

Eighty miles later, he fastened Dean's seatbelt for him. He just liked hearing Dean's groans of discomfort.

However, at nearly a hundred miles, Sam realized Dean was rapidly approaching his limits. Glancing up at the nearest sign, he offered with excessive cheerfulness, "We can stop and take them out at the next rest stop. It's only another thirty."

Despite his discomfort, the balls in his ass were having a positive effect since Dean was hard when he asked knowingly, "What's the catch?"

Sam grinned. Dean knew him too well.

"Since you've got them in your ass, you need something else in your mouth." He pulled a short but thick buttplug from under the seat and held it up to Dean's face, one eye on the road as he explained, "You hold it in your mouth for the next thirty miles and we stop at the next rest stop. You don't? It'll be another sixty miles before you get those out of your ass. Deal?"

Dean sighed but nodded, shifting in the seat and rubbing against the seatbelt even as he opened his mouth for Sam.

The road ahead was quiet and Sam looked over at his brother as he slid the clean plug between his parted lips. Dean's eyes were wide in the dimming light but his teeth clamped on the plug in determination, bound hands moving absently against his cock through his jeans.

The miles ticked away to the soundtrack of Dean's body moving against the leather of the Impala's seat, the wet sounds of his mouth on the plug, and the soft noises that escaped him at the stimulation to his prostate.

Looking over, Sam wondered what people in the other cars would think if they noticed his brother buckled into the seat next to him with his hands bound, mouth filled, and his face flushed with the exertion of his position.

He wondered if any of them would find it as hot as he did.

Dean exhaled heavily, nostrils flaring and head tilted back in an attempt to settle the plug further into his mouth. Sam tried to resist, he really did, but it was too tempting to run his fingers up Dean's ribs in a way that had made him laugh when he was seven and still never failed to produce the same effect.

Dean let out a muffled yell of protest and tried to twist away but couldn't stop himself from joining Sam in helpless laughter when he was tickled mercilessly. The plug slid out of his mouth, overbalancing to fall into Dean's lap while Sam let out a victory cackle.

Still filled with gags at his other end, Dean glowered at him. "You suck, dude."

Sam let the car veer onto the rumble strip as he hit the gas and promised, "Don't worry, man. I will." He smirked. "After another thirty miles."


End file.
